Flying The Radar
by FireflyBullets
Summary: Something that a friend wanted me to continue on her behalf.
1. Drinks

_**Just want to give a heads-up:** This was originally the work of one of my friends, who left it for me to finish. Everything up to chapter 7 was written by her, but everything afterwards has been done by me._

* * *

Valerie Bay Joel-Radar.

That's me.

I made that name for myself the day I stopped looking back. It's based on Spanish, but the people I'mhiding from speak Spanish, so I have to sort of code it.

The origina phrase was "Volar bajo el radar", which translates to "Flying under the radar". I thought it was a fitting name, as flying under the radar is what I do best. Every day, I live a lie, pretending to be someone else for the sake of protecting my true identity, my freedom. I am the sheep in wolves' clothing, the rose among thorns, the liar and theif.

I am a Jumper, living among Paladins.

It wasn't always a case of life or death for me, though. Most Jumpers are hunted by Paladins from the moment they make their secret public. I was lucky to grow up alone, because neither of my parents were really there. Dad was a gambler, and Mum had three jobs she worked to pay off the mortgage. I was always left to my own devices, and I liked my solitude. I was good at being alone.

I made my first jump when I was five, and y senses went into overload for some reason. I collapsed, and nearly passed out. I learnt later that it was an extra sense, like a natural instinct, telling me when someone jumped. The same instinct that Paladins share.

I became something of a paradox. But I enjoyed it. I taught myself to shut off the sense when I jumped, and by the time I was ten, I could jump with only a faint twinge in the back of my mind. Of course, I could still sense _other_ jumps, just not my own.

Before we lost all the money, Mum would take me everywhere. I knew Brisbane, Sydney and Melbourne well, and we even went to Perth once. Everywhere I went, I took photos, and I returned there even after we got home. It was incredible, the freedom I had. But I knew, from my extra sense, that there had to be people hunting Jumpers.

Most Jumpers are dead by the age of twenty. Only a lucky handful survive to see the other side of twenty-five, and no one has ever heard of a thirty-year-old Jumper. But it's sort of the same for Paladins. Most are between twenty and thirty-five, with only the highest-ranking officials in their mid-fifties. There's a small handful in their late teens, mostly seventeen, eighteen and nineteen, the children of other Paladins, who are dedicated to the cause.

Any Jumper's natural instinct is to jump away when they encounter a Paladin. A crazy few hunt Paladins, making a sport of it, but they never survive for long. The others try to run, and die quickly. Not me, though. Like I said, the sheep in wolves' clothing. I call myself the sheep, because if a sheep were discovered among a pack of wolves, it would be torn apart within seconds. Same for me.

My sense is a lot stronger than most Paladins, and I have a special talent for finding Jumpers. So, the Paladins welcomed me into their ranks with open arms when I was fifteen. I kept my jumping a secret, though. Hiding in plain sight.

How exciting.

XxxxX

Darling Harbour on a January evening is beautiful.

I say that with a certain degree of bias, though. Sydney, after all, _is_ my home, and Darling Harbour was one of my favourite escape places.

'So, to clarify, we're not even going to look for trouble,' Liam Hargreaves stated, 'If they provoke us, we'll defend, but we're not hunting. Not tonight.'

'All we're hunting for is a good time,' Junior stated, flicking a long strand of hair out of his brilliant blue eyes, 'We're in Sydney, it's seven pm and still hot, and we're admiring one of the most beautiful areas of scenery in the world.'

We were here with a larger group, most of them adults, and we were staying in a flashy steel-and-glass apartment building close to the Harbour, but the adults were holding a special meeting and we, being underage, weren't allowed to attend.

"Adults" classified anyone over the age of twenty, with enough experience. Liam was a little sour that he'd missed out by two months, but Junior and I had punched him lightly on the shoulders, and dragged him off to a flashy Italian restaurant on the waterfront. A full plate of tortellini and some garlic bread and mud cake later, he was okay about missing out.

Junior and I were both eighteen, soon to be nineteen. Junior had dark brown, floppy hair that reached his ears, and he was fun-loving and had a certain liking for bending the rules. He had that I'm-the-one-your-mum-warned-you-about look about him, with a grin that was more of a smirk, mischievous, sparkling blue eyes, and stray strands of hair that never stayed with the rest of his hair, no matter how much gel was used. He barely looked sixteen, but he was five-eleven. His youthful features, and the fact he had only been with us for a year, had earned him his nickname.

Liam, on the other hand, looked like a British punk. He had shaved his head, and a silver earring dangled from his left ear. He almost always wore a black trench coat and a pair of round, dark sunglasses, even if it wasn't sunny. He looked sort of scary, but he had a half-decent heart. Liam had greeted me when I'd gone to LA the first time, about two years back, and we'd kept in contact until we no longer needed partners, when we could go out alone. Junior had shown up a year later, at the London agency. I met the Brit in California and the Californian in Britain.

'So, what to do now?' Junior asked. Around this time of night, he was always thinking with his stomach, no matter how large his dinner had been.

'We could check out a cafe and get some cake,' I suggested, but he shook his head.

'The girls there are always so desperate, and I don't have _that_ much money on me.'

Liam chuckled, 'Okay Handsome, maybe we can find a fish and chips shop somewhere, get a few serves of chips or something.'

'We're near water,' I stated drily, 'An unwritten Australian law: If there's water, there's a fish and chips store within five hundred metres.' I was considered the local expert, as I'd spent sixteen years of my life here, full-time. Liam had only ever been to Britain and the US, and Junior the same.

Two huge serves of chips were paid for and quickly destroyed. We washed it down with coke and watched a street performance.

'What now?' Liam asked as we turned away from a fire-eating man.

'Legal age here's eighteen,' I grinned, 'And I've had my eye on some of the clubs here since I understood what clubbing was.'

XxxxX

The music was loud and blaring with a strong bass line that made the window panes rattle, and the fluorescent blue, green, yellow, orange and purple lights flashed everywhere. The only fixed lighting was at the bar, where traditional fluorescent tubes lit up the counter.

'Another round?' Liam yelled over the music, and Junior and I nodded. We had chosen to sit up at the bar, until we'd had enough drinks to affect our sense of self-consciousness. Everyone here was wearing tiny denim skirts, skimpy tops with spaghetti straps, and stiletto heels.

'What are you watching for?' Junior asked, leaning in closer so I would hear him.

'The peroxide blonde over there,' I pointed, 'I'm waiting for those heels to snap.'

The girl was wearing five-inch heels that were barely thicker than a pencil, and the way she was bouncing around on them meant they would gove way soon enough.

Sure enough, as Liam handed us our drinks, the left heel snapped and the girl fell, probably rolling an ankle. I smirked, shook my head, and turned back to the bar.

'Gt any Resch?' a British voice asked the bargirl. I turned to my right to see a guy with a tangled mess of brown hair and a leather jacket. He turned to me, and I realised his face seemed so _serious_, as if he was worried, or thinking. Or being cautious.

'Not from around here?' I asked, and the guy surveyed me carefully, his eyes sweeping over the shoulder-length black bob, the black tee shirt and the jeans. Nothing showed in his eyes, though, which sort of annoyed me. I was pretty good at reading eyes, and I didn't see anything in his.

'Just here for a bit, heading home soon.' The barmaid handed him a long neck of the New Zealand beer, and I gestured.

'If you want Kiwi alcohol, you should go to New Zealand,' I pointed to my own, a toohey's dry, 'Australia serves Aussie beer best. It's like asking for a Bud in Britain. Totally out of place.'

Leather Jacket arched an eyebrow as he raised the bottle to his mouth. I smiled and looked away.

'I'm guessing you're a local, then?' he was still looking at me, as if cautious, like the way a bird will watch you when you throw some crumbs; they want the crumbs, but instinct tells them to fly.

I grinned, taking a swig, 'Been away for a bit, but yeah, I call Sydney home.'

'You travel a lot?'

'Part of my job.' It was the standard lie; if we ever met anyone in a bar, or somewhere, we always said we travelled for a living, either hunting old artefacts or collecting things, like a museum curator. Except we didn't bring back the item we were hunting, we just kill it. 'What about you? A business trip, or pleasure trip?'

'More for fun this time around,' Leather Jacket grinned, 'But My job does necessitate some travelling. A _lot_ of travelling.'

'Oh? What do you do?'

The guy hesitated, and I knew that whatever he said next would be a half-truth, probably, or maybe even a lie. 'I hunt down lost things,' he replied.

Was that the bass line making my stomach feel strange, or had it just done a somersault? Was he another Paladin, a lone ranger?

'What a coincidence,' I smirked, 'We collect things,'

'We?'

I indicated Junior and Liam, who were deeply involved in a discussion hat had something to do with different clubs in different countries. Leather Jacket understood.

'I'm Radar,' I extended my hand, 'That's what everyone calls me, anyway.'

'What's that short for?' he asked, shaking my hand.

'Valerie Bay Joel-Radar,' I replied, pronouncing the _j_ correctly, as a soft _h_.

'Strange name,' the guy replied. Was it just me or was he avoiding telling me his name? Oh well, he looked about twenty-one, maybe older, anyway. Maybe a little too old for me.

'Valerie for my grandmother, Bay for my other grandmother, Dad's surname was Joel – he was Spanish – and Mum's surname was Radar.'

'Complicated,' Leather Jacket grinned as he took another sip. 'I suppose you want to know my name, too.' It was a statement, not a question.

'I told you mine, you tell me yours.'

He ginned at me, and was about to answer when Junior grabbed my arm.

'Dance?' he asked, his eyes sparkling. If he'd turned that gaze on any other girl, they would have melted completely. Junior was a good friend, so I never got the weak-kneed feeling you get when a guy like him looks at you like that.

I nodded, and left my drink on the counter. Liam owed me another few rounds, anyway, after that bar in Chiswick last month.

We danced through three songs, until Liam decided he wanted to go home.

'Fine,' Junior waved him off, still fairly straight-headed. I was feeling slightly dizzy, but it wasn't anything too bad; I'd had worse in New York when someone had tried to spike my drink. Drew, another of the guys, had knocked the guy out cold, though. I doubted Mark Kobold was going to be slipping anything into other girls' drinks anytime soon.

'Maybe we should head off soon, too,' I suggested, but Junior waved a hand vaguely.

'The night is young,' he stated, signalling the barmaid for another round.

'It's nearly midnight. This place closes at two,'

'I haven't gotten any numbers,' Junior stated simply, and I gave up. Junior _never_ went home without a phone number or two. He obviously wasn't trying hard enough tonight.

'Your friend's enjoying himself,' a British voice stated beside me as I watched Junior dancing with another girl later. I started slightly, and turned to see Leather Jacket beside me.

'Yeah, but I really shouldn't go without him,' I suppressed a shudder, 'Our job doesn't make us popular with...certain types.'

'What, people who don't like collectors?'

'It's a cut-throat business,' Literally. Last time we'd left one of our guys to get home on his own...well, they found the remains two weeks later, in coyote territory near Mexico. Not pleasant.

Bloody Jumpers.

'So, how long are you in Sydney?' he asked. I shrugged.

'Couple of weeks, until we track down what we're looking for and...' I trailed off, and glanced at my drink. Maybe I'd had a little too much; I'd almost said "killed it". What a way to blow cover, especially if this was another Paladin. He could report me, get me in strife.

_Think about it, though,_ my mind was blurry, trying to fight through the alcohol, _You didn't see him arrive. You haven't been "tuned in" all night, so you might not have even sensed him. He said he was a hunter..._

Nah, couldn't be.

'You all right?' he asked, looking at me. I looked up at him, and grinned.

'Think I might've had too much,' I stated, and Leather jacket grinned.

'I haven't even had a chance to buy you a drink, though,' he stated, and I blinked at the thought. A complete stranger, buying me a drink.

_Don't trust him. Even if he's just a normal guy, he could spike it._

'Yeah, whatever,' I showed him the bottle. I'd switched, over the course of the night, from toohey's to strongbow, preferring the lighter drink, in case I had to carry Junior home again. Hey, it had happened before.

I didn't hear him order the drinks, but the barmaid handed the bottle straight to me, popping the lid off as she did. At least he couldn't spike it, then.

'How long are you here for?' I asked him.

'Might leave tomorrow, actually.'

'You mean later today,' I pointed out. It was already one in the morning, which made it Sunday, the Sabbath Day, the day of rest.

'Yeah, later today.' He raised the bottle, 'To a safe trip home, for both of us.'

'Safe trip home,' I repeated, and the bottles clinked together.

I was probably going to be lucky o get back to the apartment safely, considering the state I was in.


	2. Repercussions

I don't remember getting home.

I don't remember going to bed.

In fact, I don't recall much after the ninth – or was it tenth? – drink. I know I ordered it, and we were playing "maze", 'cos Junior had a deck of cards in his bag. Don't ask why. I know there was some girl he'd picked up –Tanya? Tasha? Natalie? – and the British guy, Leather Jacket. I don't remember getting his name, though.

I squeezed my eyes, trying to remember. Yes, dancing – there was dancing involved. And a bathroom at some point, but It wasn't me with my head in the toilet bowl. I can hold my drinks. There was also singing... "99 Bottles" or something like that.

But after that, the next thing I remembered was waking up as someone very rudely opened the curtains. Someone groaned loudly to my left, from the floor.

'Cawesleeabilonger?' someone mumbled, the words slurring together. I opened my eyes, then decided that was a bad idea, and closed them again. Too much sunlight, I guess.

'Had a bit too much last night, eh?' I recognised the voice as that belonging to Dean, the highest-ranking in our group, 'Maybe you should learn to either drink less or hold it better.'

I lifted my head off the pillow, trying my eyes again. Thankfully, the sunlight didn't seem so glaring now. I looked around the room.

Liam was sprawled across his own bed, still snoring. That guy was almost inhuman; sometimes he could sleep through one of the drum-bashing sessions our neighbours had, and sometimes he would be up and alert at the tiniest drop of a pin. But he was a featherweight when it came to drinks. He could barely hold two, and he was lucky to be conscious after four.

Junior was sprawled across the section of floor between my bed and the window, as if he'd fallen over before he reached his own bed and decided that near enough is good enough. Actually, that was probably what had happened. He sat up groggily now, feeling around for a bottle of water.

'How's the heads?' Dean asked, tossing a heavy book at Liam. It landed on the guy's chest with a heavy thud, and he almost stopped breathing for a second, then mumbled something and rolled over, away from us.

'Mouth's a bit dry,' I noted, running my tongue along the inside to see if there was anything unusual. Once, I'd woken up with the taste of liquorice in there, as well as egg and something else that could be compared in taste to Creaming Soda.

Scotch, beer, and a little rum. Ugh, I hated rum. Where did I get rum?

It didn't really matter.

'Hey, you should check out Radar's new man,' Junior teased. He ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier than it already was, if that was even possible. 'He had to help her home.'

'He what?' I was suddenly upright, wide awake. Maybe he'd left a name and number – was it possible?

'Yeah, halfcarried you to the front steps, then said "see you round" and took off. Didn't leave a name or number or anything.'

Oh.

XxxxX

Of course, Sundays are supposed to be a day of rest. If you do the Christian thing, that is. Paladins aren't Christians, not really. The higher-ups believe they act for the great and holy God, but Junior, Liam, Dean, Sonya and myself never really believed that God would be too keen on us bumping off other humans. I wasn't keen on it, but I never actually did any killing. I was the jumps expert.

'Amatuer,' I scoffed at the floating, twisting jump scar in front of me. We were in Central Station, near the ticket barriers, 'It's about thirty seconds old, pointing north-north-west,' I pointed in the direction I was talking about, 'And it's either someone very small or very young.'

'How can you tell?' Sonya, a Torres Strait Islander, had always been suspicious of my ability to get so much information from ajump scar. I rolled my eyes at her.

'See the height of the scar?' I indicated; the scar was only about five feet high, 'So that means it's a small person or early teens. Or a very tall seven- or eight-year-old.'

Junior stepped back, holding his hands up. He hadn't fastened his green coat, and the sides lifted to reveal a cable launcher he had tucked into his waist. 'I'm not killing a kid that young,' he stated, 'I might hate them, but an eight-year-old can't have done anything bad, could they?'

'Tell that to national security,' Liam growled. He was acompletely different person whenever we were on a trail. He never actually told us, but I had a feeling that Jumpers were involved in the death of his parents and two little sisters. That could piss me off, too, but it was more likely that Paladins would kill my folks, not Jumpers.

'What's National security got to do with it?' Junior asked. Liam shrugged.

'If the wrong people got their hands on him, they could make use of his talent to hurt others. Would you like to be responsible for letting that happen?'

'I'm not saying you guys can't," Junior protested, 'Just don't expect me to get involved. I'm sitting this out with Radar, this time.'

Liam opened his mouth to argue, but Dean cut across, 'Junior, if that's your decision, fine. But if you sit out all the time, you'll never get anywhere.' He glanced around, 'I think we should move, two people are staring.'

'Five people in green trench coats _does_ kind of scream "suspicious activity",' I pointed out. Liam and Sonya shot me a fierce glare, and I shrugged it off as we continued along the platform.

No one really cared when I took off. I only vaguely helped to lead them to the Jumpers, never actually helped them with the catch & kill. I couldn't, not when I was just like them. In a way. Junior thought it was because I had ideals, that I didn't like the idea of cold-blooded murder. That's not altogether true; if you're going to kill something or someone, you should have a reason. Like, self-defence, or vengeance. Justified reasons.

So, if a Paladin dies, that means it's okay? Because they killed others?

I knew all about Jumpers and Paladins. There were good Jumpers and bad Jumpers. Good Jumpers were the ones that stole, lied and used their gift to go wherever they wanted, do whatever. The bad ones were the ones that did all that, as well as hunted and killed Paladins, and sometimes even the families of Paladins. When we hunted, it was easy to tell the good from the bad.

The good ran; the bad stood and fought.

'Hey, you awake?'

Junior snapped his fingers under my nose, and I looked up. We were wandering aimlessly down a long hallway-like thing, and I realised that we were under the platforms, in the connecting tunnel. White plasterboard walls hemmed us in on both sides, hiding the construction area from view.

'Yeah, just...thinking.'

Junior made a face, 'Could it really just be a kid?' he asked. I could tell he wasn't keen on following this hunt if it was.

'Well, it was about forty seconds old and still thick,' I was good at examining jump scars, 'So it must have been an amateur, or a sloppy jump. And it was only five feet in height, so maybe an adult bent double – but the scar would've been thicker – or a young teenager or short teenager.'

'Old enough to understand why we're after thaem?' Junior asked. I knew the answer he was looking for, but it wasn't the right one. So, I fell back on the old Paladin statement.

'If we let them go 'cos they're young, who's to say they won't come after us later, when they're older?' I shrugged, 'Kill or be killed.'

That was my mantra, the only thing that kept me with Paladins. _Kill or be killed_. Kill with the Paladins, or be killed by them.

Junior thought about it for a bit, and stopped me, grabbing my arm as the others began up the stairs.

'Is that how you justify it?' he asked, 'If it weren't for you, we wouldn't find them so easily. Is that how you make yourself feel better inside?'

I never felt better inside. My guts were almost always an anxious knot, tense with keeping myself in check, and from the very thought Junior had just echoed.

'Oi, you two just gonna stand around all day?' Dean called down to us, 'We've got work to do.'

I looked at Junior. 'How d'you feel about taking the day off?' I asked, trying to keep my face neutral.

'My head's still throbbing from, last night, so any chance to get out of here is fine by me.'

I swivelled my head around, looking south, as if I could see straight through the plasterboard wall. The movement was so quick that it looked like it had been instinctive.

'One just arrived south,' I called, then turned back to Dean, moving towards him quickly. He frowned.

'I didn't sense it,' he stated, and I rolled my eyes.

'Two hundred k's, remember?' I frowned, making it up as I went along, 'Probably on the outskirts, too far for the rest of you, maybe...' I tried to remember the name of a suburb on the far south end, 'Holsworth, the army base.'

'Really?' Dean frowned, 'Maybe I should go with Sonya—'

'Nah, there's a train for there about to leave,' I grabbed Junior's arm, 'We'll go, I know this place better than you lot, anyway.'

Dean looked like he was about to shout something after us, but decided against it. We were old enough to look after ourselves; we'd proved that in LA, about three weeks ago.

Junior was grinning as we hurried back along the passage. 'You're a genius,'

'Only when it comes to lies,' I replied, and almost covered my mouth. It hadn't even meant to come out, just slipping. Freudian Slip, I think it was called. But, as I didn't cover it up, Junior didn't suspect anything.

I might have only been eighteen, but I knew a lot about psychology. If you make a mistake, then try to cover it up, people will realise. If you let it go, eight times out of ten, they won't notice. Like in performances; if an actor screws up a line, they ad lib over the top instead of stuttering, and no one even notices, except the director and the other actors.

'Which train?' Junior asked, stopping as we reached the top of the stairs. I pulled him towards one just as the chime rang, stating the doors were about to close.

'We'll get off at the Museum,' I told him, and he nodded as we slipped through the closing doors. That was one of the first few stops, and it was still in Central Sydney, so we could spend the rest of the day wandering around.

I shrugged off the trench coat, folding it and stowing it into my bag. 'Don't want any loose Jumpers deciding to kill us on our day off, do we?' I stated, and Junior grinned. He pulled his own off, and tucked the cable launcher under his loose shirt. I had a tether, stowed in my backpack with my coat. No need to use it unless there was an emergency, which I doubted. Besides, tethers were nasty. Cable sets were three long spikes with an electrified cable stretched between them, forming a Y-shape. Their power supply only lasted until the centre piece was damaged, or ran down on power.

Tethers, on the other hand, were like whips fired out of the launcher, wrapping around the victim. They sent a continuous stream of volts along the cable and into the unfortunate victim. I'd been shocked – accidentally – by one of them, and never wanted to touch them again. I hated just thinking it was there.

'So, what should we do for the rest of the day?' Junior leaned against the doors as the train sped up. I shrugged, and checked my watch. 12:15, yay.

'Maybe we could have a bistro lunch, or something,' I replied. Junior grinned as the train slowed down, 'This is us,' I stated, and pressed the "door open" button. We both stepped off as the doors slid shut, and began towards the way out. Junior had never been to Museum Station before, so he didn't know where everything was.

'There's this cafe, right outside, on the corner,' I recalled, 'We could geab coffee or something.

Junior made a face, 'Not Starbucks, I'm guessing,'

He was American, so, naturally, he had a fascination for Starbucks. I shook my head. 'Cafe De La Motte, I think. Something like that, anyway.'

It was Cafe De Motte, without the "La". Oh well, I hadn't been to this area since I left home, about four years ago. Home was about ten minutes' walk up the road, where I used to—

_Stop it. You can't ever go back there._

'So, d'you know this area well?' Junior was sipping at his coffee, while we sat at a table waiting for some food. He'd just asked the question I'd hoped to avoid; damn.

'Yeah, sort of.'

'Close to home?'

I glanced at Junior. _No one_ ever spoke about their homes, unless there wasn't one anymore. It was too dangerous for our families, if we had families left. There was a fear among the Paladins, a secret fear, that if they ever mentioned their families, a Jumper would find out and hunt them down, just to get to the Paladin.

Junior leaned in closer, 'We're not in dress, and we're not doing any business,' he smiled, that grin that was more of a smirk, the blue eyes dancing, 'Next time we're in LA, I promise I'll show you my old home, yeah?'

'They're dead,' I stated. It was a reflexive lie, something I said without meaning it. I shook my head, 'Well, they're not actually dead, but they—' I sighed, gritting my teeth. My throat felt tight, and was that my tear ducts working? 'I left, didn't leave a note or anything, just took off with a bag. Found the people I was looking for, gave them a new name, didn't look back.'

My hands were shaking. Why had I just said that? Junior was frowning at me, not angry, just... confused? Sorry for me? Worried?

I rested my hands on the table, pressing down so that they would stop shaking. The blue fire in his eyes was gone, or dormant. He reached across the table and covered my hands with his own.

'If you can't talk about it, that's cool,' he stated, 'But if you want to talk, I'm here. _God_, that sounds so cheesy!' He grinned again, the fire returning, and I laughed at his comment. I blinked a few times, and my eyes seemed to clear. I realised his hands were still holding mine, and I looked up again, met his eyes.

_No. No, it can't ever happen._

I pulled my hands away, and took another drink of my coffee. I could feel Junior's eyes watching me carefully, something else in them – hurt? – that burned behind the mischief. He didn't, couldn't ever know. Why had I even started about my family? Where had it come from?

I knew the answer as soon as I asked the question. It was there, in the expression on his face, the way he would always speak about anything with me, the constant friendly teasing, the total, unfailing trust and loyalty.

_Think of what he's going to be. Ten years'; time, can you keep the mask for another ten years? Can you keep it on forever? Because when you take it off, it will leave a distance between you, one that can never be breached._

It was already too late.

'So,' Junior broke the silence first, 'You're the local expert. What happens around here on a Sunday?'

I wasn't listening.

Of all the moments to choose, it had to be that moment. Of course, why didn't I realise it? I just – sort of –rejected one of my closest friends, and then he comes strolling across the grass.

Right towards us.

His hair was still insanely messy, and he was wearing the same clothes he'd worn last night, the same dark jeans, dark teeshirt, and black leather jacket.

Junior followed my gaze, and grinned. 'Of all the places,' he muttered brightly. At least he didn't _seem_ to have any bad feelings about the moment.

'I see you made it home all right,' Leather Jacket grinned, 'Mind if I join you?'

'Pull up a chair,' Junior grinned, 'We were just talking about travelling.'

'I thought you were leaving today?' I blurted out. Well, not actually blurted. It just sort of slipped out. Leather Jacket turned to me.

'Decided to hang around for a bit,' something in his eyes said it was a lie, 'What about you guys?'

'Anytime from Wednesday onwards,' Junior replied, 'Hey, thanks for helping out last night, with the...'

Leather Jacket waved a hand, 'No problem. I bought the last six rounds, so I had some sort of duty of care towards both of you.'

I frowned. I didn't remember having six drinks with him. Just the two... oh, right, I couldn't remember half of what happened last night anyway.

'So, how long did you decide to hang around?' Junior brought me back to earth as he asked Leather Jacket the question.

'Maybe til Friday. There's something I want to find before I go.'

Something must have clued me in. Maybe it was just a hunch, or maybe it was a gut instinct. Maybe – this is straining it – it was a psychic ability that had lain dormant for eighteen years, and now surfaced to warn me of just one thing.

Or it could have been the bowie knife tucked into the back of his jeans. The bowie knife with a really, _really_ old symbol carved into it, similar to the Pisces symbol.

See, back in Medieval times, during the "witch" hunts, which were actually Jumper hunts conducted by Paladins, both sides had special symbols. Paladins were either stars, triangles with a line through, or an eye. Jumpers had just the one symbol, and guess what symbol that was.

A symbol very similar to the Pisces symbol.

Exactly like the one on the knife.

'You all right?' Junior asked, noticing that I was staring fixedly. Leather Jacket shifted round to look at me, and I met his eyes.

I could dob him in, get Dean, Sonya and Liam here. I wasn't about to kill him, that was for sure. Or I could just play it off. But if he was here for what I think he was here for, then it was back to the old mantra.

Kill or be killed.

I raised an eyebrow at him. 'Got a permit for the knife?' I teased. Something dark crossed his face, but he pulled it out and lay it on the table, the bare side up. Junior didn't see the symbol.

He was good, this one.

'I keep it with me, just in case,' he smirked, 'Not exactly a safe job, is it, what we all do?'

'Artefact collectors,' Junior stated.

'Yeah, we often have to fight off someone else who wants what we've got,' I replied, hoping to smooth it over. I really didn't want to have anything to do with this guy any more.

'Unusual weapon, what you've got,' Leather Jacket indicated the slight bulge under Junior's shirt, 'Is it just me, or does that look like a gun?'

Junior glanced at me, shrugged. I knew what was going through his mind: _He shown his hand, let's show him ours._ Only problem was, if we showed this guy our hand, would we survive to talk about it?

Casually, I picked up the knife, turning it over and tapping the symbol with one finger, hoping Junior got the message. He was still reaching for the cable launcher, so I guessed he hadn't. I looked at it closer.

'What's the symbol mean?' I asked, showing it to Leather Jacket. Junior glanced at it, then looked closer. I saw his eyes widen, and he mouthed something at me. I nodded with my eyes, looking down then up several times.

'Oh, I got it from this woman in Brazil,' Leather Jacket shrugged, 'She said it was the mark of some rich family in the area, before they all died out.'

Junior was still reaching for the cable launcher, but trying not to look conspicuous about it. I knew what was on his mind. Kill or be killed.

I would have to act as mediator if this was going to escalate.

'That symbol was around during medieval times,' Junior stated, 'It was some sort of witch symbol, I think.'

I silently begged him not to do anything stupid, to just walk away. I knew he wouldn't.

'"Witch" was just a code word for something else,' Leather Jacket stated, 'Something that still exists today, a type of people. I think you should know all about those type of people, eh?'

He gently took the knife off me, and smirked. Junior had his hand on the cable launcher, but I knew he would never get it up in time. Leather Jacket could have stuck him in the back of the throat before he even had his finger on the trigger. I decided not to play it down.

'Jumpers,' I said quietly, 'Yeah, we know.'

I swear Junior could have choked me. Leather Jacket was regarding me carefully.

'"Collectors", huh? That's generally what Paladins call themselves,' he was glaring at me.

'It's a code anyone can steal. How was I to know you weren't a Paladin yourself? In Jumper clothes.'

'How do I know you're really one of us?'

Junior realised where this was heading. He pulled the cable launcher out and sat it on the table. 'We carry Paladin weapons and clothes to blend in,' he stated, 'We're hitching with this other group around here, they're taking after some teenager right now.'

What was he doing? Why was he telling the Jumper where the others were? Did he want them dead?

Leather Jacket grinned, 'I know exactly where they are,' his eyes looked angry, vengeful, 'Because I lead them there.'


	3. Kill Or Be Killed

Kill or be killed.

But, if he was really a Jumper that went after Paladins, why were we still alive? He knew where our apartment was, he could have just shown up in the night...

_Stop getting ahead of yourself. How would he know if you're Paladins?_

'Hey, you awake in there?' Leather Jacket was smiling, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. I realised I was holding my breath.

'Sorry, just zoned out for a bit,' I smiled, hoping my acting was as good as I thought it would be, 'Probably still a bit out of it.'

'At least you didn't end up in a toilet bowl,' Leather Jacket grinned, looking pointedly at Junior.

'I don't remember having so much scotch in one night,' he replied.

'Shots,' Leather replied simply, then turned back to me, 'Maybe we should all go for a walk, it might clear your head a bit.'

_Maybe you just want to take us down some dark alley where you can finish us both off,_ I thought. But I had to keep pretending, so I smiled slightly, again, 'Yeah, why not?'

I pulled a strap of my bag over my shoulder as we stood up, and felt the tubular tether press lightly against my back. Oh well, I guess if I _had_ to use it...

Leather pulled his shirt down, almost unconsciously, covering the knife, and Junior tugged lightly at his own shirt. Maybe he suspected something was up, or else he wouldn't have bothered trying to hide his weapon.

Leather started off towards the memorial monument, in the centre of the park, and Junior and I shrugged at each other. The memorial wasn't always the most populated, but it was in the middle of the City, and open. I guessed that so long as we stuck to places out in the open, we might get out of this.

'I don't think you ever told us your name, last night,' Junior stated, and the guy grinned, eyes glittering.

'Maybe I don't want to tell you,' he stated. Why would he not want us to know his name? But he was still grinning, and I realised he was joking.

'Well?' I prompted. He turned to face m, walking backwards.

'Griffin. That's all you need to know.'

'Griffin O'Conner?' Junior blurted, and I swear I could have happily broken his nose for it. _Why don't we just tell him?_ I seethed furiously in my head.

'How'd you know that?' He had stopped dead, and the smile had disappeared, replaced with a look of caution, and curiosity. Junior turned to me, expecting me to make up a lie. I've always been good at lying, have I mentioned that?

'We've got a friend, talks about you constantly,' I hesitated, for real, then amended, 'Well, he _used_ to talk about you a lot. You and a few others.'

Griffin O'Conner's eyes were narrowed with suspicion. 'What kind of friend?'

'We met him in Berlin, then he showed up in New York a few days later. Well, I was closer to him than Junior,' I indicated, and kept walking. The lie was coming effortlessly, and I barely had to think about it.

'Where is he now?'

I shrugged. 'Haven't heard from him in, ooh, nearly four months. He took off one night, said he was going to track down some guy, never came back.'

'I reckon he did a runner before he got too involved with Radar,' Junior grinned, finally catching on, 'Made up some stupid name, said Palestine was after him—'

'I think it was Paladin,' I cut across. The lie seemed to work; Griffin wasn't regarding me with suspicion any more, but he did look a little sympathetic. Maybe he knew the story we were telling, but from a different angle.

'What was his name?' he asked. I mentally ran through a list of Jumpers' names in my head.

'Andrew Michaels,' I replied. Andrew Michaels _was_ a Jumper, one who had liked to hunt Paladins, but he'd gotten overconfident one night, and tried to take on eight. The police never found the body. The Paladin records stated that he kept making death threats, and saying "Griffin'll avenge me, he'll kill all you's fuckers".

The name was obviously one Griffin knew, because he stopped for a second, then continued. 'Yeah, I knew him.'

We had reached the memorial.

'He died,' Griffin stated, 'Killed by Paladins. Just one of many, really. Just a kid, too.'

Yeah, I know. Sixteen years old, still had family and friends, still lived a normal life. But he'd heard of the war, and had joined in, all guns blazing.

He didn't last a month.

'What are Paladins?' I realised we couldn't leave it there. If he said something that would normally make someone curious, then we had to pretend to be curious.

Griffin shrugged as he leaned on the railing. 'There's this war that the government tries to hush up, between two types of people. Jumpers and Paladins.'

'Yeah, but what are they?' Junior was obviously trying to make up for his loose tongue just before, playing along.

'They hunt the Jumpers, kill them. And there's a lot more of them than there are of us.'

I felt slightly guilty, and I wondered why. Then, I realised. I was a Jumper, pretending to be a Paladin, helping to hunt down the Jumpers. If there were more Paladins, shouldn't I have joined the Jumpers instead?

The irony of the situation struck me as I looked at the memorial, a huge saucer-shaped statue, with a flame burning in the centre. The Eternal Flame, to honour the fallen. We were looking at a war memorial while talking about a war.

'But the Jumpers fight back,' I stated, watching as the flame twisted and danced in the light breeze. Was it just me, or had it suddenly gotten cold?

'Yeah,' Griffin sighed, 'Jumpers fight back, and a lot die. But even the ones that run die. Nothing lasts forever, and they all know that.'

'Whose side are you on?' Junior asked. I hoped to Christ that he realised this was dangerous territory, 'Or do you just try to hide?'

'I fight,' Griffin replied. _Duh_, 'I used to run, to hide, but... well, there was this girl. When the bastards went for her and her family,' he was starting to sound angry, now, and he shrugged, 'I lost it. Figured that I couldn't keep running forever. So I turned around and fought.'

Yeah, we knew that, too.

There's this list that is shared among paladins, top secret stuff. It's got the most recent photo, the name, and a short background about a select few Jumpers. Sort of like the international Most Wanted list, but with less circulation. It ranks Jumpers on how long they've survived, and how many Paladins they've killed.

Griffin O'Conner was number three. And he was standing right here, between me and Junior.

I realised my hand was moving of its own accord, gently unzipping my bag. Junior was probably also reaching for the cable launcher tucked into his jeans.

'How'd the war start? I mean, it had to be more than just Paladins being scared of people that could teleport anywhere.' Junior was speaking conversationally, casually. I glanced over at him, and, sure enough, his hand was resting on his hip. But I saw Griffin's eyes narrowed again, and they swivelled towards Junior.

'I don't remember mentioning teleporting,' he stated in a low, even voice.

Junior froze, his hand resting on the launcher. My hand was inside the bag, and, despite being unable to move anything else, my hand closed around the grip of the tether. Oh, man, I _really_ didn't want this to happen. Junior and his fat friggin' mouth!

Griffin, however, seemed unaffected by the tension. 'It's easy to play dumb, isn't it, Alex Crook?'

_No one_ ever used Junior's real name, not even the Paladins. It wasn't that he hated it; he just thought Junior sounded cooler, and less criminal. The only place his real name had been written was on his entry forms, before he got the nick name. Entry forms that were left in an unlocked office on the eighteenth floor of the Canary Wharf building, London. Entry forms that had gone missing three weeks ago, along with those of Dean Salvadore, Sonya Marshall, and Liam Hargreaves.

We all moved at the same time.

I whipped out the tether as Junior raised the launcher, and Griffin jumped. I whirled around, as he landed on the other side of the memorial. Junior fired, and he jumped again, and I yelled as he landed behind Junior, grabbing his arm from behind and twisting it up behind his back.

I _really_ didn't want to use the tether, but I didn't want to give him a chance to kill either of us.

Junior screamed as there was a loud snapping noise, but he wasn't released. Griffin was still twisting his arm up, trying to dislocate his shoulder, as well.

I fired at them, as Griffin jumped again, and I whirled around as he landed behind me, tossing Junior to one side like he was a useless doll. Junior fell onto the path, twisting in agony, and I saw a flash of silver in Griffin's hand.

The knife.

Before I knew it, he had my wrist, and jumped. We were in a warehouse, full of shipping containers and crates. A sign on the far wall said "Warehouse 2B".

2B, 2B... Hang on; we'd been there two days ago, chasing another Jumper. At least we were still local.

But local was one of the last things on my mind as I ducked under a backhanded swing. He still had the knife, and my wrist, which meant he had the upper hand. I didn't even have the tether anymore – had I dropped it? – and I barely knew the layout of the warehouse.

I lashed out with a stunning side-kick, spinning on the ball of my foot, aiming for his stomach. The hand on my wrist disappeared, and I completed the turn, so as to avoid losing balance, before throwing myself forwards, away from another strike.

A quick plan formed in my mind as Griffin appeared by my side. Instinctively, I threw myself to one side, rolling to get as far away from him as possible.

I slammed into something hard. Oh, the crates! Right.

'Stand and fight, Paladin,' Griffin shouted, walking forwards. I was still on the floor, pressed up against the crate. If he lunged, or jumped, there was no way I would be able to move in time. In fact, there was no human way I would be able to escape him.

No _human_ way.

I jumped.

It felt like my head exploded.

I fell to the ground inside the tiny office, hands on my head. I wanted to scream, to yell, but any noise would be a dead giveaway. The office was only one of those dodgy fibreglass wall things, with a year 2000 model computer and tower hard drive.

I stood up, just high enough to see out the window. Griffin had his back to me – thankfully – and he wasn't moving, as if surprised. When he finally came to his senses, he would go through my jump scar.

Unless he decided to leave me alone.

'It's no fun if you don't play by the rules,' he called, and I felt like swearing loudly, but then he'd hear me. So, he wasn't going to back off.

_What the hell,_ I decided. 'I've never been one for playing by the rules,' I replied, before jumping again.

The pain was a little less intense this time, but it still hurt. Griffin had whirled around to look at the office as I'd spoken, but all he saw was the remains of my jump scar, twisting and fading quickly.

'Obviously,' he called out again, 'Tell me something. If you're a Jumper, why are you pretending to be a Paladin?'

I stepped silently backwards, disappearing into the maze of shipping containers, into the shadows. I moved quickly, silently, across the concrete floor. 'The clue's in my name.' I replied, rounding a corner. I was well out of sight, now, so I figured it was safe to turn my back.

'What was it, again? Valerie-something-something-Radar, yeah?'

'Valerie Bay Joel-Radar,' I grinned – I couldn't help myself, '_Volar bajo el radar_.'

'Flying under the radar,' his voice was higher up, now – he was on top of one of the crates, and getting closer. I saw an empty crate, the door hanging open, and made quickly for it, 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Undetected,' I replied simply. As I slipped inside the crate, I caught a glimpse of tangled brown hair, on top of the crates, to my right.

'You never actually knew Andrew, did you?'

'Only what the files said,' I replied. I pressed myself further back into the container, hiding in the shadows, 'Still had a normal life, but he was a killer.'

I knew my voice sounded confident, brave. It was exactly the opposite of how I felt.

I sensed him jump, just on the other side of the metal wall. I had known answering would become a problem. Thing is, we were out of sight of that central bit, near the office.

'Paladins are killers, too.'

He was moving, following the side of the container. If I stayed, he would round the doors in a matter of seconds, and it could be over.

I jumped, gasping at the sharp stab of pain that ran through my head. Dammit, why did I have to have both abilities?

'I'm a tracker,' I called, trying to project my voice to reach the entire warehouse, 'I don't kill, just help them find some.'

'You're the reason they die,' he called back. He had jumped, again, was back on top of the crates.

If we were still local...

How far was the warehouse from the City Centre? I quickly made some rough calculations. Too far; not even Sonya would pick up our jumps.

I ran around, out of the office area, and ducked behind another stack of containers. As I moved, I pulled my phone out, flicking through the address book.

I hit the green phone when it showed "Liam", and pressed the phone to my ear.

'Hello?'

I almost sighed with relief when I heard the voice. 'Warehouse 2B. I'm here, on my own. _Hurry up_!'

I ran into something soft and warm, and fell, sprawling, to the ground. The phone flew out of my hand, clattering loudly against the concrete floor, as a pair of strong hands gripped me tightly.

I was slammed against one of the containers, and fierce blue eyes bored into me. His hand was at my throat, pressing against my windpipe.

'Didn't have anything to say to that, did you?' he asked, 'You're no better than a Paladin; you live with them, you lead them to Jumpers, stand by as they kill your own kind,' he pressed his face closer to mine as stars began to burst in front of my eyes, 'Actually, you're worse than them. You're a traitor.'

Gasping for breath, I kicked forwards, hoping it would work. I caught him in the stomach, but he jumped away before any real damage could be done. I jumped back to the office, and then to a spot on top of the containers.

This was going to be close.

I heard a metallic groan, and looked up.

In just about every shipping yard – even warehouses – there are cranes. Four-clawed cranes that are designed to pick up the containers and dump them on trucks or, in some cases, train carriages. That was the metallic groan.

The bastard had the claw going!

I jumped as the claw slammed into the crate where I'd just been standing. It left a huge dent in the metal, but that was the least of my problems.

He was using the crane to try and kill me!

I doubted he just wanted to trap me so we could have a chat. The talking was done.

I jumped onto the ground, between the stacks of containers, and began running. I didn't recognise any containers I passed, so I guessed I was in a new section.

I saw a pair of open doors, and dived forward, tumbling on the bottom of the container. I had to get out of here.

But if the others got here while he was still here...

_Fuck it. Save yourself, worry about them later._

He appeared in front of me, in the mouth of the container, but I had already picked my jump site.

Tokyo roared around me, and I ran along the pathway, turning down a narrow alley and jumping again.

I'd done it before; jumped to several different places in order to lose someone. It wasn't new to me.

But, as I ran, One thing kept running through my mind.

_Why did I hang around in the first place?_

I could have just jumped straight back to the park, or anywhere. So, why had I stayed there instead?

I decided I would answer that question later.

XxxxX

'Alex Crook?'

Liam and Dean were on their feet instantly. I had been pacing the waiting room, and turned to the doctor as he spoke.

'Yeah, any news?' Dean asked, stepping forwards. Liam was on his heels as they crossed the room to the doctor, but I was there first.

_Please, please, please, let him be okay._

I had gotten back to the park to find a huge mess of blood, and Junior gone. There was still a small knot of onlookers, and a woman had told me that an ambulance had taken him somewhere.

I called Dean from a pay phone, told him I'd managed to get away, and explained the situation at the park. They'd shown up five minutes later in the black sedan. We'd checked out every hospital in the area, finally finding him at the Mater, and we'd been waiting for an hour.

According to Doctor James Jefferson, Junior had been stabbed in the back, above the right kidney. He was extremely lucky, as the Asian girls that had found him had only been seconds away when it had happened, but out of sight. They'd given full statements to the police.

We'd been waiting for nearly two hours.

'He's going to be all right,' Jefferson stated, and smiled. It was a smile of relief, and I noticed that he had lines under his eyes. He was only young, too, early thirties. I wondered how long he slept each night; not much, from the looks of it. The public health in Australia wasn't the best, thanks to a dodgy government.

'We've had to stitch three layers of muscle, as well as the skin, and the surface layer of his liver. He';s very lucky that it was only that far, though; any further and he would be in the morgue.'

Dean turned away, closing his eyes in relief. Liam was smiling, and I looked at both of them, Liam and Dean. Sonya had wanted to stay, too, but someone had been needed to move everything out of the apartment, in case he went there. She had two feds helping her, as far as we knew.

'When can we see him?' Dean asked, turning back. Jefferson's smile vanished.

'He won't be awake for about forty minutes,' he stated, 'But I could let you in, if you'd like. Be there when he wakes up.'

I could tell Dean wanted to say yes, and Liam wanted to, as well, but Sonya was on her own. They needed to be near her, just in case.

'We have to go,' Dean stated, 'We have to make sure our other friend is all right—'

'I'll stay,'

Liam and Dean turned to me, and I shrugged. It had just come out, instantly. Sort of accidental, really. 'I'll stay here, keep you updated.'

Dean wasn't too keen on leaving me on my own again, I could tell. 'You'll be all right?'

I shrugged, 'Might get lucky a second time.'

I knew Dean didn't want to leave me alone, here. Okay, so I'd be with Junior, but he was sort of out for the count. If Griffin O'Conner showed up again, it would just be me versus him. But he shrugged, and simply said, 'Okay.'

Jefferson took me up to Junior's private room, and left m there, closing the door as he went. I appreciated that.

The kind of words people would use to describe Junior would vary. Girls would use cute, sexy, hot, gorgeous, babe. Guys would use mad, awesome, crazy, funny, a great guy to have around. He got Casanova sometimes, as well as flirt, and player. But as I looked at him, lying in the white hospital bed, a few more words occurred to me, ones that no one else would use.

Weak. Fragile. Small.

I grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it around, to the edge of the bed, and sat down to wait.

He wasn't hooked up to any machines, thankfully, just the IV fluids. He also looked peaceful, and I realised just how worried he always seemed. Right now, he looked like he should – an eighteen-year-old boy without any worries of life-or-death situations, or ambushes. He looked...normal.

It made me wonder what we would all look like if we didn't have to worry about the war. Without the lines and the stress. What would _I_ look like?

There was a mirror on the other side of the room, directly opposite me, and I looked at my reflection. The last time I'd looked in a mirror, actually _looked_, not just checked my reflection, I had only just become a Paladin. I was fourteen, without too many worries, unless you counted pimples, boys, and the small thing about being a Jumper and hiding from the Paladins.

The girl in the mirror stared back at me, a stranger. Short black hair, cut and styled in an adult bob, and fair skin and green eyes. That was what I always saw, ever since we'd been in Nepal. Everyone had changed their looks after that incident.

I got up and walked around the bed, looking closer at the girl. It was me, the old me, studying the new me, the one with the new hair, new name, new identity, new everything.

She had faint lines under her eyes, obviously from lack of sleep, and her eyes weren't quite as bright as I remembered. The corners of her mouth pulled down slightly, as if they hadn't truly smiled in years, and the nose was slightly crooked, from where it had been broken and reset improperly a few years back. I raised a hand to touch the imperfection, and the girl in the mirror raised her hand, too. I examined my hand, looking at all the hashes, crosses, and the tassels along the three major lines. All bad signs, if you believed what palmistry said.

I forced a smile, and watched as the corners of the girl's mouth turned upwards, the smile not quite reaching the eyes. I could remember a time when it used to, when the corners of my eyes would crease as I grinned, laughed, smiled. But they didn't now. Not any more.

I rubbed a hand over my face and turned away from the mirror. How long could someone spend looking at themselves? It seemed so vain. But the image of that worn, tired, adult fce sort of haunted me. I looked mid-twenties, not late teens.

I'm a Jumper,' I said aloud. I don't know why, I just felt like talking about it. It wasn't as though Junior was able to listen; he was still out for the count. I was practically talking to an empty room, to myself.

But it still felt like a weight off my chest, to say it aloud.

'I'm a Jumper, and a Paladin,' I stated, grabbing the back of the chair. It felt like I was talking to Junior, but I knew he wouldn't hear me, 'My head nearly exploded the first time I jumped, back when I was five. I had no idea what it was, but I learned to control it, to ignore it. But I was out of practice, today. I jumped, to get away, and nearly passed out.'

I sat back down, in the chair, and looked at Junior's serene expression. Could he really hear what I was saying? Would he turn me in?

'I didn't want to die, so I hid. I hid from the wolves by pretending to be one of them. Flying under the radar, so to speak,' I smiled sardonically, '_Volar bajo el radar_. I thought I got away with it, until today. And now look at me!' I stood up and crossed to the window, pressing my head against the warm glass. It was boiling outside, an average January day in Sydney, 'I'm spilling it all to my best friend, while he's unconscious. Talk about insane.'

I turned back to the bed, 'It's not as though you can hear me, but don't tell anyone. I'm trusting you with my life, here; literally.'

I hadn't expected any reply, so I froze when a voice replied,

'I won't tell,'


	4. Talking

Junior smirked. 'Jumper; yeah, right.'

He didn't believe me.

Good.

I smirked, and moved towards the chai beside his bed. 'I knew that'd wake you up,' I teased, and Junior grinned broadly.

'I think I'm done with Jumpers for the day,' he stated, and his face twisted as he tried to move his broken arm. 'Especially after...'

'Yeah,' I pursed my lips. My hand was moving of its own accord, again, moving towards his forehead. I gently brushed away those stray strands that always fell there, and he turned his eyes on me. But as I stared into those eyes, it wasn't Junior I thought about.

_Those blue eyes..._

_Why did I stay?_

I realised I still had that question to answer, why I had stayed in the warehouse in the first place. Why I hadn't left the first chance I got.

'You got away unscathed,' Junior noted. I smiled, my fingers lingering onhis cheek. he reachedup with his good hand and pressed my hand to his cheek, 'I don't know what I would've done if you'd—'

'Don't even think about it,' I told him, leaning forward. 'We're both alive, and we both survived. How many Paladins have fought O'Conner and lived to tell the tale?'

Junior was still smiling. That half-smirk smile that made you weak at the knees, made your heart melt.

I kissed him.

I don't know what happened: one minute we were there, smiling at each other, and then we were kissing. And not just a short kiss, either. The kind of kiss teenage girls dream about, with a great-looking guy who is sweet, caring, and sensitive. The kind of kiss that lingers long after it's finished, the kind of kiss that, in some situations, can lead to other things, which one may or may not regret come the morning.

I felt his good arm around my neck, as I wrapped my own arms around him. Even while slightly giddy, I still remembered where his injury was, and avoided touching it, because I didn't want to hurt him.

Head and heart started screaming at me again.

_What the hell are you doing?_

I'm making myself happy.

_It can't ever happen!_

It's happening right now.

_What about when you leave? What will that do to him?_

Maybe I won't ever leave. Maybe I'll just stay under my Paladin skin forever, just so it can last.

_What, keep killing Jumpers? Kill your own kind?_

It wasn't my voice that said that. _His_ voice was inside my head now, and it sounded angry.

He was the reason Junior was here. I didn't owe him anything. I didn't care what he thought.

Did I?

Junior pulled away. 'Is something wrong?' he asked, frowning. He looked worried. I managed a small smile.

'I don't like seeing you like this.' I replied. It was the truth. But ultimately, it was a lie.

Junior pulled me closer, and I rested my head against his chest. I felt his fingers running through my hair.

'I'll be out of here soon,' he whispered, 'Then we can get that asshole for doing this.'

'No,'

I couldn't stop myself; it slipped out as a gasp. Junior looked down at me, puzzled.

'What?'

I concocted a lie out of the truth. 'I don't want you going after him. I don't want to see you hurt again.'

Junior smiled, and he kissed me on the top of my head. 'We'll wait, then. Waitfor him to come after us.'

I had no doubt that O'Conner probably would come after us. Or me, at least.

XxxxX

Junior had been sleeping when I left. I'd written him a quick note and tucked it into his balled-up fist, so he would find it before Dean or Sonya, or even Liam. I didn't want them to see the note.

My watch said 18:48, but the sun had already dipped below the city skyline. As I wandered the streets, I was chewing at my thumbnail, shooting nervous glances left and right. Well, I guess I had a right to be nervous. I did have a shock stick, and a launcher with me, but I doubted I would be able to use them if I had to.

'Didn't think you'd be game enough to wander around alone.'

I froze, felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. His voice sounded menacing, dangerous, but it was softer than the way he'd addressed me at the warehouse.

We crossed the road, into a deserted park. I could see a bunch of teenagers lounging around on the grass to my right, but they wouldn't be much help if things turned ugly. And besides, this place wasn't private enough.

He was following close behind me, and in one movement, I turned, grabbed his arm, and jumped.

The beach was deserted, and the rocky spit we stood on even more so. It was dangerous up here, simply for the fact that one wrong step would send you plunging into the swirling waters below.

I swayed, unsteady after the jump, and blinked a few times, trying to clear my vision. My mind seemed blurred, unfocused, and I could feel the ground tilting crazily. No, I couldn't fall. If I fell I would go right off the edge of the spit. I would be killed. But I couldn't stop it.

I felt a pair of arms catch me, hold me upright, and I sagged against the warm leather jacket. I felt sick.

'If it's really that bad, why do you do it?'

Suddenly, my vision cleared, and I felt all right. I pushed myself away from him, quickly, and he let me go, studying me carefully.

We sized each other up. I knew he had the knife, and it was likely that he knew I had my own weapons. But neither of us made a move against the other. Griffin broke the uneasy silence, looking out to sea.

'Is that why you chose them?' he asked, 'Because you can't jump without getting sick?'

'No.'

He turned back to me, face suddenly angry. 'Then why?'

How could I explain it to him? 'You hunt Paladins to stay alive,' I stated. It wasn't a question, or an accusation. Just stating the facts. 'I stay with them to stay alive. It's called flying under the radar.'

'You hide among them?' He sounded sceptical, 'And you feel safe?'

'Most of the time,' I admitted, 'I felt safe and confident in that skin until today. Thanks.'

'Don't mention it,' Griffin was glaring at me coolly, still appraising me. I shifted uncomfortably. Why was my heart racing?

'That first jump I did today,' I stated, 'That was the first time I jumped in four years. I nearly passed out, but I was scared.'

'Why'd you stay?' Griffin asked suddenly. I hesitated, thrown off. What did he mean? 'Why'd you stay, earlier, at the warehouse? You could've jumped away that first chance you got. But you only went a few feet. You hung around; why?'

He took a step towards me, which I matched with one step back. I wasn't near the cliff anymore; I was backing against the other section of rock face. Away from him.

'I...' I wanted to give him a proper answer, so that he could wipe that smug smirk off his face. He took another step forwards, and I moved back. The rock face was directly behind me, and I only had a small amount of space between the face and me. I looked up, defiantly met his gaze.

'I don't know,' I stated, trying to sound stubborn. It came out as a whisper, more like a plea.

'I have a theory,' Griffin stated, and he moved forwards. My back was pressed against the rock face now. I had nowhere to go.

'Go on, then,' I stated. The defiance was returning to my voice again, thankfully. It gave me a little courage, to hear my voice sounding strong. It belied the nervousness I felt inside, though.

Griffin was _very_ close now. There were barely ten centimetres between us.

'You didn't run away,' he was whispering now, almost reverently, 'For the same reason I didn't attack you last night. Because something drew you in, kept you there. Something about me.'

Was he suggesting...? Ha, as if! 'I seriously doubt that,' I shoved him away, and moved along the tiny path we stood on, heading for the other end of the cliff. I felt something cold and sharp press into my neck, felt one of his hands curling around my shoulder.

'Are you scared, little Paladin girl?'

'No.'

_No? What do you mean, no? Of course you're scared, you're scared out of your wits!_

The knife disappeared, and I felt him pulling me back, closer, against his warm body. I felt his hand brush against my neck, felt his breath getting warmer, closer...

It was a reflex, okay? It didn't mean anything, certainly didn't mean what he thought it meant.

I was suddenly on the lower section of rocks, as a huge wave crashed into the rocks, sending surf spray flying everywhere. I wheeled around, taking a deep breath. He was up on the pathway, smiling at me. Bastard.

'You're not scared of a knife, but you're scared of being close to me?' he called down to me. He sounded amused. I didn't like it.

He jumped, landed in front of me, but not so close this time. 'I think that would mean something, don't you?'

'No.'

Griffin was smirking, looking like a contented pig. I hated him at that moment. 'I'm seeing someone,' I stated, as if that would put an end to any ideas he had, or was formulating in his mind at that moment.

'What, that American kid?' He made no move towards me, just stood there, staring at me defiantly, 'I think you could do better.'

I laughed, 'What, like you? Sorry, but I'm into guys my own age.'

'How old are you?'

'Eighteen.'

'I'm nineteen,' he shrugged, 'That's not even a whole year's difference. 'Specially if you're turning nineteen this year.'

I wanted to hit him. 'You're arrogant, you're rude, you're half-feral,' I gestured wildly, as if that would prove my point, 'You're a Jumper who hunts Paladins. It would never work.'

Before he could say anything else, I chose my destination, and jumped back. I _really_ didn't want to talk about it anymore. I didn't want to have to look at his face anymore. I didn't want to hear that smug British voice, feel those blue eyes fixing me with a piercing glare.

Feel that touch down the back of my neck...

I pushed that thought away. I was seeing someone now. Okay, well, I'd only been with Junior, officially, for a grand total of two or three hours, but we were still in a relationship. And besides, Griffin meant nothing to me. Nothing at all. Not even a little, not even a tiny bit. He was a Jumper, and a Jumper who had tried to kill Junior. Would he try me next?

I pushed that thought away, too.

I checked over my shoulder. No one was following me. Good.

I headed for the hospital.

XxxxX

'You could have told me you were taking off,' Junior sulked when I returned. I brushed away some strand of hair from his face, smiling.

'A, you were asleep, and B, I didn't want you to worry.'

'So you left me with a note saying you were going for a walk?' Junior picked up the piece of offending paper and held it out for me, 'Imagine you've just had a near-death experience, and your girlfriend leaves this note behind. How worried would you be?'

I reread the note I'd left behind. _Going for walk, might find O'Conner, if I'm lucky. XX_

I looked up. Okay, so it did seem a little insensitive. Maybe even a little suicidal. 'But I'm fine,' I pointed out.'

'Yeah, but what if you hadn't been? What if he'd killed you, dumped you in a ditch in the desert, for the vultures to feed off of? And I never knew what happened to you, only that you went for a walk?'

I could see why Junior was upset now. I kissed him gently on the forehead, lacing my fingers through his. 'You don't need to worry about me,' I smiled, 'Jumper Girl, remember?'

Junior sighed. 'Make a joke of it all you want,' he looked sadly at me, 'You're not one of them, though. You can pretend to be, but you aren't.'

He still didn't believe me. I wanted him to, though, wanted gto tell him it was the truth. Wanted him to know that I really was a Jumper-Paladin, or whatever the hell I was. I wanted him to know me, the real me, not stupid Radar. I was sick of Radar. It was like this girl had consumed my entire life, my old life, and churned out some sort of distortion of the truth, of what I really was. I wanted to be me for once, not Radar.

And I wanted to be me somewhere that Junior would see. But for now, I had to keep pretending. And that meant I had to play along.

'You don't ever have to worry about me, Junior,' I stated, squeezing his hand, 'I can look after myself.

XxxxX

Junior was released from hospital after another week, with a Doctor's orders of plenty of bed rest and recuperation. We had shifted our place to this small house in Lane Cove, not too far from the city, and on the other side of the Harbour Bridge. We were supposed to be safe there.

Lane Cove is a nice place to live. My real Aunty Leah lived in a unit there, and I would sometimes go there for a weekend, if Mum and Dad were really bad. When Mum left, she moved in with Leah, and, as far as I knew, they still shared that unit. It was, ironically, three doors down from us. I was tempted, more than once, to go over, knock on the door or ring the buzzer, and ask to come up, to see them both. It would have been nice.

But we were busy enough at our own place. Between running around for junior, and keeping an eye on the streets in case anyone was watching us, there wasn't much time for leisure. And we weren't encouraged to leave the house, either, unless we were with someone.

Guard duty required a walk around the block, to look out for any suspicious vehicles or see if we were being followed. I usually tried to get drawn with Liam, but the method we used was straws, Two short and two long. I drew the short straw. So did Sonya.

'Hurry up,' Sonya barked at me. The key sometimes got stuck in the lock in this house, which meant you had to jiggle it a bit to free it.

'I'm coming,' I muttered through gritted teeth. Sonya and I weren't the best of friends. I don't know what I did that earned me those scathing looks, and the suspicious way she treated me. Maybe she knew what I was, and didn't like it but wanted to truts me? Or maybe she knew there was something different about me, and didn't like it?

Whatever it was, I was sick of it.

'Why do you hate me?' I finally asked. We were about four houses down from our own, and I was determined to break the silence.

Sonya was silent, but I could see she was concentrating. 'I do not hate you.'

'Then why the animosity?'

Sonya shrugged. 'I do not like you, but I don't hate you.'

'Dislike and hate are the same thing.'

'No, they aren't. Hate is something that burns deep inside your veins, makes your blood run hotter than lava. Dislike is when you are not happy to be in someone's company. As I am now.'

I paused. 'Nice analogy,' I stated, and I thought I saw a flash of a smile. Almost. 'So, why don't you like me?'

Sonya hesitated, staying silent for a long while. We'd turned the corner, and were halfway down the next street when she finally answered.

'Are you afraid of anything, Radar?'

I had been sort of flinching every time someone had called me Radar in the last few days. This was no exception. Sonya didn't seem to notice, though. Was I afraid of anything?

'Yes.'

'What are you afraid of?'

'Being caught.'

I didn't even think. It just slipped out, and I looked up sharply at her. Sonya was staring at her feet, sort of dragging them. Had she heard me?

'You are afraid of being caught?'

Okay, so she had heard me. Didn't mean I couldn't cover it up with a lie. I was very good at lies. But Sonya spoke before I could formulate that lie.

'You are afraid of the others knowing you are a Jumper?'

I stopped dead. Literally. I stopped walking, froze, in the middle of the footpath, in broad daylight. Just froze. I wanted to run, I wanted to hide. I wanted to jump. But I couldn't, because it was like I couldn't move at all.

I finally managed to choke out two words.

'How long?'

Sonya had stopped, too, and she looked back at me. 'Known what you are? For five years.'

Five years. That meant...

I frowned. That couldn't be right. She looked younger than she had at that incident. Much younger.

'You're not the only one with a false identity, kid,'

And this time when she spoke, it was with a heavy Russian accent. I had no doubt whatsoever, It had to be her, but it wasn't possible.

'You look younger,' I stated carefully. Sonya shrugged.

'Plastic surgery makes us all look younger.'

'But the burns weren't anywhere near your face,'

'This,' she indicated her face, 'Was the result of a different incident. Only three years ago. They figured it best if I went under deep cover.'

'How's things with the Mossad at the moment?'

She didn't flinch as I threw the name out, didn't even bat an eyelid. 'I no longer work for them.'

'Oh? Who is it this time?'

'CIA.'

CIA. Okay. 'So, how come you're playing Paladin?'

Sonya sighed. 'Still as curious as ever, aren't you?'

'Only when there's a chance I might end up getting screwed over.' I smiled, more to myself than anything. 'I like to know my enemy.'

'Which explains why you're playing Paladin,' Sonya stated. She sighed again. 'Can I trust you?'

'Cross my heart.'

'The US government knows that there is a war going on, and they've tried to stop it. But they can't.'

'Okay, I'm following,' I nodded slowly as she explained. 'So...'

'So, they feed agents into the depths of the organisations that are involved, and bring it down from the inside, out.'

It made sense. 'What about Jumpers?'

Sonya stiffened. 'I don't know about that side of it. They won't tell me.'

Okay. That wasn't good.

Generally when someone doesn't tell you something, it's either to protect you, or to lull you into a false sense of confidence so they can stab you in the back ater. I had a feeling this was a back-stabbing thing.

'So, Jumper Girl, what brings you so close to the danger this time?' Sonya smiled at me, a genuinely warm smile.

'Flying under the radar,' I said simply, 'With older planes and that, if you're directly beneath the radar scanner, or directly above, the radar won't pick you up. It's dangerous, and hard as hell to get in that close...'

'But it is worth it.' Sonya stated, and I nodded.

'Definitely. They would never suspect what I really am.'

'There may be one,' Sonya stated. I shvered.

'Yeah. Just one, though. I swear, it's like he's got a nose for Jumpers, though. Can smell them a mile away, probably.'

Sonya chuckled, and I couldn't help but smile. But she turned serious very quickly. 'He is not someone to joke about, though.'

'I know,'

'You have met him?'

'Only via video link,' I replied, 'Once, just after I joined. I was working with this guy, Daniels. Another Australian, but a total sadist. He liked to...'

I remembered that first assignment I'd done with Daniels. He was chasing this kid he'd been after for a few months, hadn't caught him yet. The kid was a year younger than me, only fifteen, and Daniels had killed his parents, and closest friends in the first night. When I was with Daniels, we caught up with the kid in Tokyo, found one of his friends.

The screaming echoed through my mind, and I closed my eyes. It didn't work, though. I could still hear them.

'I've read his file,' Sonya stated, 'Apparently, he was recently diagnosed with obsession. Still after some Mannetje kid he'd been chasing for the last two years.'

'Yeah, I know.'

I was kind of glad Daniels wasn't allowed out any more. I slept easier at night now. But I knew he wasn't the only one.

'If he ever got his hands on you...' Sonya shuddered. 'Are you afraid, Jumper?'

I nodded. 'You?'

'Me? Terrified.'

'Of what?'

Sonya was smiling as she looked at me. 'Really? You really want to know?'

'Yeah,'

'Jumpers,' Sonya replied. I paused, looked up at her.

'I'm a Jumper.' I pointed out.

'And I'm scared of you, too. Not so much as the other ones, but still...'

'Why?'

Sonya gestured back the way we'd come. 'How many other incidents have you seen, where a Jumper got the better of a Paladin, hm? And with types like Griffin O'Conner, Mallet Rorigan, and Tony Strzlecki on the loose, who knows? I might not wake up tomorrow, because of one of them.'

It was a good point. A rational fear. 'But you go after them like there's no tomorrow,' I pointed out.

'I do that to keep my cover intact. To Dean, and Liam, and even to Roland, I am Sonya Tapau, angry Paladin who avenges her parents' death by killing. If I could blow mycover, and still live, I would. But I am too much like you, I think.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' I asked uncertainly. Sonya grinned.

'Too many lies. If I tell the truth now, someone will get hurt. Someone that I do not want to hurt. That is why you still do not tell Junior, isn't it?'

I whirled around, staring at her. 'You've been listening in on us?' Sonya shrugged.

'I have a habit of istening at keyholes,' she stated nonchalantly, 'It comes with the job.'

'Right,' I was suddenly uncertain. If she'd been listening in on us, what else had she heard?

As if to answer that question, Sonya stated, 'I think you _should_ go and see your parents. Introduce him, tell him the truth that way. I'm sure he'll forgive you.'

'I don't think he will,' I countered, 'He'll get all moody and upset that I didn't think I could trust him earlier, and then he'll stop talking to me for a week, then he'll decide it's some big joke and deny it, and _then_ he might get over it and accept it, or he might just take off, never talk to me again. Might even change groups just to get away. Or sell me out—'

'He wouldn't dare,' Sonya stated sharply, then she softened. 'You do not see it, do you? I was here when you met, I saw it in a moment. Other girls, they all swooned over him, and flirted with him, or maybe lost their senses momentarily. But not you. And it confused him, and it made him eager to know why you were so different to other girls.'

'Easy,' I scoffed, 'Most of them don't live double lives.'

Sonya stopped, grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me to face her. 'That boy loves you, I can see it from here. The way he looks at you when you're not looking, the way he smiles every time you talk to him. He is like a lovesick schoolgirl. Only... a boy. But still just as lovesick.'

_I know_.

I knew it, and he knew that I knew. But I couldn't... If I hurt him, I didn't think I'd be able to forgive myself. And there was only one way out for me when it came to it. And that meant that I would have to hurt him.

Besides, it would put him in danger to know the truth. They might use him to get to me. If they ever needed to get to me. Which they would.

Eventually.


	5. Leah

I was nervous.

Okay, so nerves aren't unusual when you're a young paladin, especially not when you've met certain jumpers, but this was a different kind of nervous.

My finger hovered over the buzzer. The name tag still read the same, but if there were new owners, they could have neglected to change the name tag.

_Okay,_ I told myself, _On the count of three._

_One..._

_Two..._

_Three..._

I hesitated

_Four..._

'Do you need any help?'

I whipped around, my hand shooting for the tether cable before I realised I'd left it at the house.

Stupid, stupid me.

I managed a smile at the woman, who was pulling a small trolley behind her. 'Nothing wrong,' I reassured her, 'Just...nervous,'

'Oh, an ex-boyfriend, then,' the elderly woman smiled and shuffled up the steps to the door. I stepped back so that she could get inside, and she was gone and up the hallway soon enough. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I turned back to the buzzers, and frowned. _Could_ I do it, that was the question. Radar wrestled with Riley, the girl that had lied to protect herself. But the stronger one won out over the other.

I pressed the buzzer, and waited. I counted to ten, to try and soothe my nerves.

Nothing happened.

Half disappointed, half pleased, I turned back to the street. I could probably go to that little cafe—

'_Hello_?'

I turned back to the buzzers. I recognised the voice, the bright, cheery voice that I'd hoped would always stay with me.

'_Hello-o?_'

I half-ran back to the buzzers, and grinned.

'Aunty Leah?'

There was a surprised silence. Leah didn't have any other siblings, and I was an only child. So there was only one person who had ever called her "Aunty Leah".

'_Riley?_'

I grinned. 'Mind if I come up?'

There was a buzzing sound, and I pushed the door open. Leah lived at the top of the three-storey apartment building, and there was only the stairs. The trick to it was to not take the first flight two at a time, or in a rush. That way, you'd still be breathing by the time you got to the top.

Leah was waiting at her door when I got to the top of the last flight. She was smiling, and moved forwards, arms outstretched. I ran forwards, and we met halfway.

'Too bloody long,' Leah cried as we walked back to her unit, once the hugging and the crying was over, 'Four years! And you didn't once think to contact us in that time!'

'I got busy,' I defended, 'And after a while, it got...dangerous for me to call you.'

Leah shut the door behind us, and pointed to the couch.

'Sit; tell,'

I did as she said, and she went into the kitchen to make up some coffee. 'White, two sugars,' I called to her, and heard her chuckle.

'I haven't forgotten,' Leah stated.

It took five minutes for her to return with the coffee, and she sat on the lounge beside me, legs folded under her body.

'Okay,' she took a deep breath, 'Spill.'

And I did.

Everything, from the jumping to the paladins, from the discovery to the plan, from then to now. And Leah told me she knew about the jumping, because Mum had told her, and they'd wondered if that was where I had disappeared, because they managed to dredge up some old files on the computer about paladins.

'Where is Mum, by the way,' I asked, looking around. Leah grimaced.

'She went to work, and she'll probably be staying late. Your old man used to come 'round, too, once you took off.'

'Yeah? What's he up to these days?'

Leah regarded me carefully, and set the coffee mug on the table.

'Maybe I should show you,' she said carefully.

XxX

Try as I might, I couldn't dredge up any grief.

Sure, there was regret, and the thought that maybe, if I'd stuck around, this wouldn't have happened, but the man I remembered was a monster. Mum had had to take out a restraining order on him when they split, and he'd been an abusive drunk. He'd also been a gambler and an addict. So it sort of made sense to me as I stared down at the headstone in the ground.

'When?' I asked, keeping my voice low. Leah sighed sadly.

'About a year, now. Your mum took it pretty hard; he'd been half decent after you took off.'

'I doubt that,' I recalled the nights he'd come home drunk, nothing in his pockets. Mum had been relieved to be free of him when they split up, 'I'd have thought he'd stay the same until the last day.'

Leah fixed me with a sad stare. 'He didn't give up the drugs or gambling or drinking, but he did try to get the police involved, and tried to tear Sydney apart when you took off. He still cared about you.'

I stared down at the slab that covered the grave and shivered. 'Let's go,'

Leah didn't argue.

XxX

I left Leah's place in a good mood. Sure, it wasn't as good as meeting Mum again, but she'd told me that Mum might be home all day Sunday, if she was lucky. We were organising for it to be a surprise.

'Where have you been?' Dean demanded when I got back, 'We were starting to get worried.'

'Run into any Jumpers?' Liam grinned, and I managed a smirk. Radar was back.

'Unfortunately, no,'

'Damn,' Liam turned away, 'Junior's sleeping, so don't wake him up. He was freaking out when you were gone for more than an hour.'

'I just went to see—' I cut myself off. I'd been about to say "My aunty Leah", but my story was that I had no family left. 'Went to see old contacts, from when we were with Daniels.'

Liam smirked, 'Do they know anything about that kid he was after?'

'Nah,' I shrugged, 'They said it got shut down when he was arrested. Maybe someone took it up, who knows?'

'Yeah,' Liam rubbed his chin thoughtfully, 'After everything that happened...'

I've had my fair share of crazy paladins, and my fair share of dangerous jumpers. Jake Mannetje was just a kid pushed to the limit, as far as I knew. I'd had dealings with him once, when I was still working with Daniels about two years ago, but I hadn't heard anything about him since.

I hoped he was still alive, and safe. He was a nice kid, just caught up in the wrong mess.

XxXxX

Leah and I looked up as we heard the key in the door. I set my mug on the table as she gestured wildly.

'Go, hide somewhere!' she gasped, trying to compose herself on the couch. The door had opened, and I could hear shopping bags. There was nowhere left to hide...

I dove over the couch and pressed myself flat against the ground behind it.

'Hi, Ellen,' Leah smiled, 'Did you get the Milo?'

'Ugh, you have no idea how crazy the shopping centre is this time of a Sunday,' I knew the voice straight away, 'People everywhere. Took the checkouts girl twenty minutes to get through just my lot, too! They really need to train up their staff better,'

'Ellen,' I heard Leah set her mug on the coffee table, 'I've got some news.'

'Oh, what now?' I heard her voice getting closer, as if she was approaching, and tensed.

'You might want to sit down, Elle,'

There was a hesitant pause, and then I heard another person sit on the couch with Leah.

'Now, you remember what we looked up about Riley?' Leah asked. I slowly raised my head, making sure I was behind her. I saw her nod carefully, and Leah took a deep breath, her eyes flickering towards me briefly.

'Well, I had a call today,' Leah said slowly, keeping her face serious, 'I know what happened to her, now.'

Ellen, my mother, swallowed nervously, then braced herself before nodding. 'Go on. Tell me the worst.'

'Who said the news was bad?' I asked, cutting across Aunty Leah. Ellen gasped and whirled around, staring at me. She blinked in disbelief as I grinned at her.

'Hey, Mum.'

There was a beat of silence, and then the shit hit the fan.

XxXxX

'You're in a good mood,' Junior noted. I smiled back at him as I folded my clothes into the suitcase.

'Am I not allowed to be happy?' I asked. He shrugged.

'Can I ask what's put that big, stupid grin on your face?'

'Yeah, you can ask. Doesn't mean I'm gonna answer,' I replied. Junior chuckled.

'Burn,' he sighed as I passed him, and he reached out and pulled me onto the bed beside him with his good arm, 'And here I was thinking it was just my presence, and the fact that this,' he waved his broken arm, still encased in the plaster cast, 'Gets taken off tomorrow.'

'Well, that's part of it,' I grinned up at him. He leaned down and kissed me gently.

'So, do I get to know the rest of the story?' he asked as he pulled away. I pursed my lips.

'That's top-secret intel,' I stated.

'Do I have to tease it out of you?'

'Do you want to tease it out of me?'

'What kind of a stupid question is that?' Junior asked. I chuckled softly, reaching up and wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer again.


End file.
